


Secret Little Pleasure

by foreignobjecticus



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Butt Plugs, Dom!Vila, Ficlet, M/M, Sub!Avon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreignobjecticus/pseuds/foreignobjecticus
Summary: Avon's little pleasure isn't just something he can indulge in the bedroom.
Relationships: Kerr Avon/Vila Restal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Secret Little Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a prompt on Tumblr.

He feels like he’s being watched, scrutinised, even at the back of the flight deck, out of sight of the rest of the crew. Every movement; the twist of his hips, the rise and fall of his chest, the parting of his fine lips, all a delicate performance.

He can feel Vila’s eyes on him, hungry, judging every movement and watching for the signs.

He tries very hard to stay silent when the toy inside of him _clicks_ and begins to vibrate. Very very lightly. He doesn’t react.

The vibration grows, two more clicks, _three_ , in rapid succession. Punishment for his composure. Avon’s chest squeezes and he bites back a sigh with only the thinnest amount of control. His hips roll gently against thin air and he can feel himself growing, starting to strain against the waistband of his trousers.

Another _click_.

He breathes in deeply through his nose and exhales a shaky, silent breath. The toy feels bigger in him, but he knows it’s not that type. Not after last time. Still, the vibrations feel as if it’s spreading him apart, millimetre by millimetre, and he’s starting to bead, salty, warm moisture-

“Avon!” Dayna smiles up at him warmly, and he’s torn between gratefulness and anger at the distraction. “Come join us. We need another player.” She gestures at some board game set up between the sofas. Avon clears his throat.

“No, thank you, I-”

“Come on Avon! Scared I’ll beat you?” Vila grins wickedly from where he’s doubled up over the board, one hand concealing something, thumb rubbing into his closed fist. A warning.

A brief glance down at the control panel gives him a chance to check his tunic covers everything.

When he sits, gingerly, he feels the toy pushed in just the tiniest bit deeper. Someone presses a game piece into his hand. Vila presses the button again.


End file.
